Ugly.

I learned something in the last few days. I learned that there are two kinds of people in the so-called “social media space.” To my left, say hello to the kind, caring, compassionate, I would say normal human beings – you know, those actually capable of empathy. To my right, say hello to the sociopaths, the hypocrites, the soulless assholes more concerned with themselves, with their own little worlds of personal gain and opinions, than of other people’s privacy, well-being and even grief.

I learned this through the painful process of reading through many of the blog posts written about Trey Pennington’s untimely passing, and even more of the comments left behind by other readers. What I found was a distinct split between the two groups, a line, as it were, drawn in the proverbial sand. What is most remarkable to me is the rare absence of a gray area here. I found no compassionate hypocrites in my reading, no caring sociopaths, no empathetic assholes. If you wrote anything about Trey Pennington in the last few days, either on your own blog or someone else’s, you belong to either one camp or the other, and your soul, your heart, your nature have been revealed in this circumstance.

While some of us felt compelled to honor the man and to share our grief with one another, others simply jumped on the opportunity to become part of a news story, to place themselves at the forefront of it, as “experts” and “gurus” once again.

I didn’t know Trey Pennington, but here is my painful story of depression.

I didn’t know Trey Pennington, but here are my insights on why he died.

I didn’t know Trey Pennington, but here are top 5 ways of deepening relationships online.

I didn’t know Trey Pennington, but here are my thoughts on the dangers of chasing the wrong thing.

If you didn’t know Trey Pennington, why are you writing a 2,000 word post about the lessons his death taught you in all of twenty minutes it took you to realize that was the trending topic of the day? Why are you using his death as a platform to push your dime-store insights about depression or the digital world or the meaning of the term “friendship?” Why couldn’t you just reach out to his family and friends and just say something kind instead? Was the opportunity to exploit his death really too hard to resist? Are you really that focused on your little race to the top of social media blog rankings?

Shame on you, those of you who went there, those of you who didn’t listen to that little voice inside your head telling you you were exploiting a man’s tragic end for personal gain. You know who you are and you know what you did. Shame on you.

I hope your blogs got a lot of hits. I hope a ton of people clicked on your affiliate links. I hope that Trey Pennington’s death generated at least a 15% boost in ad revenue for you this week. I hope it made you feel important to have something clever to say about it, to impart your wisdom of all things social media, to have your followers tell you how clever and wise you are, how smart. I hope you enjoyed stealing the spotlight, no matter how briefly, from a man whose suffering you never stopped to give two shits about before you saw a way to turn it to your advantage.

Here’s what you did, in a nutshell: You turned a man’s death into content.

And it doesn’t stop there. Some of you also took it upon yourselves to pass judgment on a man you didn’t know, to project onto him whatever preconceived notions you had about “guys like him” and the artificial nature of social media “friendships.” Not only did you put yourselves in the forefront of the story now as the professor of the moment, but also as a man’s judge and jury, even though you never knew the guy, even though you don’t know the first thing about him or his circumstances or the fact that “social media” had nothing to do with why Trey Pennington took his own life.

Here’s one of my favorites:

The lesson from Trey Pennington is simple – stop assuming that because someone created a web presence and says things that are attractive to you and seemingly can make your life better, that any of it is true.

It’s usually not. None of it.

I extend my condolences to the family and friends of Trey Pennington, and hope that at least one of you reading this will realize that your shock is only due to your inability to face reality.

Thank you Brian, for that wonderful lesson. God bless you for setting us all straight. I’m sure we all feel better now, and wiser too.

Since those of you in that lesson-giving category don’t want to make this about Trey, since you want to make this about you, let’s go there. Let’s make it about you. We won’t talk about how the fact that Trey was one of the rare individuals in the Social Media world who actually used the space to connect people in the real world, by the thousands. Let’s not dwell on the fact that Trey (whom I met online long before I met him in real life) introduced me to dozens of people whom I now count among my dearest friends – people I would have never met had it not been for him. Let’s not talk about the real work Trey did online and offline, his passion for bringing people together and making their lives better. Let’s not talk about how perhaps for a man as tortured as Trey Pennington, social media was, at least for a while, a life-saving balm, a mode of therapy, a refuge for his tortured heart, even one of the few things that kept him going and brought joy to his life. Let’s not talk about any of that. Let’s talk instead about your world view and your cynical clichés and your infinite wisdom about a guy you didn’t know. Let’s use his death to illustrate your little bullet points on life and social media, or better yet, attract traffic to your blog.

To understand what this looks like, I want you to imagine a funeral for a moment, a memorial service. Trey Pennington’s family is there, occupying the front rows grieving, crying, trying to hold it together. Behind and around them are huddled hundreds of friends and colleagues, all heartbroken, some utterly shattered by the sudden death of their friend. This is the image I want you to create in your mind. Now I want you to pan back. On the outskirts of this scene is an array of soap boxes, and on these soap boxes are people preaching to passers-by about the “lessons” of Trey Pennington’s death. They stand there, their backs to the grieving, their voices booming outward, gesticulating in their best social media guru T-shirts, using the tragedy to attract attention to themselves – all this within sight and earshot of the grieving.

“I didn’t know Trey Pennington, but why didn’t he just ask one of his 100,000 friends for help?”

“I won my struggle with depression. Too bad he couldn’t be as strong and wise as me!”

“The demands of being a social media rock star are difficult on me as well. I even had to turn off my phone yesterday!”

“Here’s what I heard about what really happened!”

Pan back a little more, and you will see “reporters” (and I use the term loosely) updating their barely-researched 300-word pieces on the the death of a man whose life they didn’t bother to look into with an archive photo or a screen shot of a tweet, or a change of nomenclature in the title, just to keep traffic rolling in.

Pan back further, and you will see a long procession of people come from all over the world to pay their respects. The vast majority of them are setting down flowers and candles and cards on a mound of such offerings meant to honor and remember the man. They shuffle by, looking beyond the soapbox preachers at the grieving, wishing they could somehow soothe their pain. But among them are people who just came out for the show, for the spectacle of it, for the opportunity to say their piece and feel important. And so here they are, leaving angry notes to the family or yelling at them outright things like:

“Take a lesson from Charles Dickens’ portrayal of Ebinizer Scrooge, a man who was successful in business and a failure in personal relationships.”

“Not all suicide is due to depression only but can be done as a protest and just plain selfishness and hate. Going to a church with a gun makes me wonder if he had something else in mind more than depression.”

“I don’t know the guy. I’m just saying that killing yourself doesn’t make you a saint.”

“This wasn’t a simple suicide, it was a public act of terror.”

“The depression/suicide paradigm is simply the wrong paradigm to apply to Trey Pennington’s situation. That paradigm may have been proper to Trey in previous instances, but Sunday’s outburst was an undiluted narcissistic fit of rage. He was angry and homicidal. he intended to make a congregation full of children watch him off himself, and probably at least one other person as well. Sympathy for Trey Pennington is misplaced.”

These are all real comments from real people.

I thank these wonderful human beings for their precious opinions, for their empathy, for their timing, for their respect. It is wonderful to know that we are at all times surrounded by people so self-absorbed that they will jump, no leap, at the opportunity to barge in on people’s grief with their precious “two cents.”

That scene I just made you visualize has been the state of the social media world these last few days: A genuine sense of loss and sorrow by a small community of friends and relatives almost eclipsed by a circus of opportunistic bloggers hijacking Trey Pennington’s death for traffic and attention, media outlets getting into cat-fights over who covered the story faster or the motives behind their coverage, commenters speculating about a man they didn’t know, an event they weren’t there to witness, and a tragedy they know nothing about.

Fortunately, some blog posts were respectful and eloquent and genuine. To those of you who wrote these heartfelt pieces, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You’re good people. Among you: Geoff Livingston, Jeffrey Jacobs, Kristi Colvin, J.P. De Clerck, Scott Gould, Rhonda Snowden Norsby, and many others. There’s a reason I count you among my friends.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to look far to find the ugly side of “social media.” You don’t have to go digging at its extreme slimy edges, where predatory $13,000 certification courses and webinar scams tend to live, to find it. It’s sitting in the cubicle next to you, standing next to you in church, waiting in line behind you at the grocery store, following you on Twitter, writing the blog posts that appear as if by magic in your RSS feed every morning. The ugly side of social media has nothing to do with the medium at all. Selfishness doesn’t need Twitter or blogs to thrive. Some people are just ugly inside. It’s as simple as that. They don’t care who they have to rip off to make a buck, who they need to smear to get themselves off the hook, who they have to hurt to get ahead. They simply don’t care. Someone dying is just another opportunity to get a little more exposure, that’s all.

With all the talk this week of façades and online personas and artificial identities, the reality of the social web is that it doesn’t hide people’s true nature behind avatars and “personal brands.” For those with their eyes open, it reveals people’s true nature, big as a billboard for all the world to see. In spite of every artifice in the web marketer’s playbook, we’re all as transparent as jellyfish. Hypocrisy is the dumbest of all our flaws, the one that, ironically, makes us least aware of how obvious our real intentions are to those watching with purpose.

So yes, there are two types of people in social media, in the world, and this week I have come face to face with both. To those standing on my left, thank you. Thank you for being human, for being kind, for being at the very least respectful during a difficult time. To those standing on my right, I have nothing else to say. You know what you did. I know who you are. I see you all. Shame on you.

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240 Responses

Thank you, Olivier, for speaking as someone who knew, loved, and appreciated Trey. It has been difficult reading all the armchair quarterback posts. I will be home, on my knees, drawing from the strength of his Greenville friends this evening; my spirit will be with you!

The concept of carpetbagging is not exclusive to war. I intentionally avoided anything related to Trey, except to say that I was disappointed in what happened. Because I am. I could have written one of those insensitive posts about overcoming depression and not pulling the trigger when the barrel is in your mouth – but I didn’t. It’s too personal, the idea of death. Too bad the idea of life isn’t – for some people. You’re going to garner a lot of web traffic for this post. But I know that it’s not that important. Not this time. Except, maybe, to shine a light on those who take advantage of things that ought to be left alone.

1. Weird that you would use the term carpetbagging. It’s been floating around in my head all damn day. Must be something to that.

2. This wasn’t the post I wanted to somehow remove from the “visit ticker.” It was Sunday’s. If I could have somehow invalidated every visit, if I could make it look like I had zero visitors to that post, I would. I almost didn’t publish it for that very reason.

Then it occurred to me that a) I don’t advertise on the blog. I don’t have affiliate links. The blog generates zero revenue, whether I have 100 visits a day or 10,000. And b) my intent isn’t to drive traffic. If the blog gets a lot of visits because of the post, it’s just a thing.

This post falls into the same category. You know I am big on intent: People’s intentions matter more to me than their actions, sometimes. If you screw something up but meant well, I can’t be that mad at you. But if you meant to hurt someone, even if you ended up accidentally helping them, I am going to dwell on your original direction.

It was kind of a catch-22: I couldn’t not write it. But writing it meant walking that fine line in the eyes of many, mine included. In the end, even though each gave me pause, I couldn’t just let either post go unpublished.

But you know, Trey or no Trey, if you feel like writing about something personal, I’ll be the first to support you here. I know your heart. I’ll never have to ever question your motives.

Olivier, your post really got me thinking about how often, when we hear of a sad or terrible situation happening to anyone that makes the news/web that we think that we have some insight. And we pass judgement. Make assumptions. This was not the case for me with Trey – I knew who he was and am blessed to have friends in common. Having said that, I will think about your words when a situation arises and I don’t know that person. I will stay on the left. Thank you.

I have been moved by remembrances of Trey from friends like Olivier in public and also by people who knew him well in more private forums. I agree with Anne that people need to learn (or relearn) self filtering. One of the great things about these social media told is that they give anyone a chance to share their opinion, it is also the worst thing about it. Just because you have an opinion or some self discovery does not mean you should share it.

As someone stumbling on your blog, and as someone who knows nothing of Trey Pennington, I don’t want to appear to be one of those to your right as I try to separate the social media from the social creatures.

I think you’re absolutely right that the “personal brand” and the anonymous rantings let us see people for who they really are, even as they try to manage their online personas. But I think that the only thing that has really changed in human interaction is the volume and the frequency.

Think about the guy who hands you a business card at a wedding, or worse yet, a funeral (had it happen once). Think about the habitual letter to the editor writers. Or think of people who stop you on the street and try to sell you something or sell you some religion.

In one sense I believe we’re still just trying to figure out our filters — you know how to avoid eye contact with the street prophet and you know which editorial comments to brush over in the paper.

But in another sense, stories like this just make me have less hope that we can make the world nicer — New York has a lot to offer, but it’s a big, dirty, dangerous place. I wouldn’t want to live with 8 million New Yorkers, but the Internet is kind of like living in a big dirty city.

I just hope we can all hang onto our compassion as you seem to have done and not become cynical urbanites just because we’ve got a cable modem.

As a young marketing student who never had the chance to meet such a gracious and influential individual such as Trey, I could only imagine what it was like for those close to him who were able to truly know they man and the sincerity with which he graced upon them. While I’m just a random person in a sea of people paying respect to this individual, I too am disheartened by the comments of those who chose to put their own attention-whorish cravings ahead of the need for civil decency. It is my sincerest hope, Mr. Blanchard, that those who may be reading this- as well as those who are guilty of the above comments you point out- realize that at a delicate time such as this, privacy and respect are the most appropriate responses. Enough of the “let’s try and associate someone’s problems with my own.” No two situations are alike and the more you try to make them appear to be the more foolish you look in the process. No more assumptions. No more speculating. Just let the man rest in peace.

Your writing is always exceptional — often transcendent — as I have said more than once. But in this case it is more, so much more. It is both uplifting and heart wrenching; clarifying and troubling; damning and optimistic.

You hold a mirror up to your fellows, with conviction and personal strength and invite us all to take a long, hard look.

After reading your post, I can say three things with certainty:

1. I had neither the honor nor the pleasure of knowing Trey Pennington, which is my great loss.

2. I agree with John Donne when he said “No man is an island … Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.”

3. And, as I am certain that a man has no greater wealth than the love of his friends, Trey Pennington was a wealthy man indeed.

And perhaps there is one more thing I need to say:

When I pass on, I can only pray that someone with your deep kindness and humility, will say a word for me.

Oliver as you said Social Media can be ugly and it is. I agree with you. I know many will not agree with me, but Social Media should not be the place where people discuss tragedy of another. Certainly not the way they discuss Trey’s. Is despicable for those who call themselves guru, experts or whatsoever to take advantage of the moment. Offering a classes on depression that SM cause and how to prevent was the most disgusting thing that i saw in last two days on SM platforms. I am wondering how people who took advantage of a tragedy would feel if they would be in the shoes of Trey’s family and his friends. Is sad and beyond sad. I always thought people have basic understanding of respect. Well now i know i was wrong.

Thank you for writing this. I read a few thoughtful, moving posts about Trey from yourself and a few others you mentioned, but by Tuesday needed to log off my feed because the armchair psychoanalysis and content generation made me feel like I needed to take a shower (and reading some of the comments you’ve included here makes me feel like I need another one). Watching people discuss “his selfishness” via Twitter was not only in poor taste, but downright offensive. The social space in the past few days has made me sad for humanity. But I am also glad that there still are people out there like you who are willing to call out a douchebag move when they see one.

And now we both know why they say that ignorance is bliss. Eye-openers like the one we’ve just been through make it hard not to get down on people. Makes us appreciate the good people all the more.😉 Chin up, sister.

I did not know the man save for a short stint in the same private FB group and that is hardly ‘knowing.’ But what I do know is when others think they ‘know’ and they don’t and just simply go along for the ride. How sad for them. Your post? Truly from the heart. And what a heartbreaking loss.

I like your image of “panning out.” For what it’s worth, I’m zooming in. And I can honestly say that I didn’t know Trey Pennington, other than in passing. I have been surprised at how much I _feel_ at his passing despite not knowing him, how curious I am about what dragged him to that place, and feeling my own projections of … how I’ve been in a place sort of like that. But I’m also aware that processing emotions through the lens of my own experience is anything BUT empathy.

So I’m trying to look through a different lens, and from that, I can honestly say, I wish I had known him, because of the wonderful things you and Jeffrey have gotten across in the past few days.

I thought you were awesome before this post, because you spoke your mind when other ‘guru-types’ wouldn’t. But now I have even more respect for you. You’ve, once again, said what no one else would say. This time calling out those who chose to use a man’s death for SEO.

I’m saddened that you had to write this post. It’s the false sense of celebrity that people see/saw that gives them the belief that they can write whatever they want. It’s not new or reporting by any stretch of the imagination. But it’s no different than those who wished to capitalize on the death of Lady Diana, Elvis, Tupac, Biggie, Aliyah or even the Crocodile or the OxyClean guy. We create the celebrity so we can then say what we want w/o having to stop and think that they are humans with family and friends who are deeply hurting.

Thank you for calling attention to this self-aggrandizement in the wake of tragedy. My deepest sympathies and condolences to you and the Pennington family. May his memory be for a blessing and may his legacy of love for people serve as a beacon for those who were touched by his generosity.

Olivier why is it so hard for folks to read and learn from those of us who knew Trey what he taught us and how we honored his life. What is the point of gossip, innuendos and plain meanness?

Who the F are they to pass judgment, when they are just as weak a human as the rest of us?

How about waiting a week or two if you feel this situation opens doors to discuss what people can do when they are faced with these dire tragedies.

For me I feel blessed to have a recording of our interview, I can listen to his sage wisdom any time I need a boost. I can see his caring expression knowing he never passed judgment on others, he always gave kindness instead.

Oh heck, is this an occasion when I can drop my lady like manners please and flip them the bird? (Trey would say Michele you are better than that, and he is right)

First of all, I am sorry for your loss. Second, I am truly sorry you felt the need to write this post. It never ceases to amaze the things people will do and say – especially online.

Several months ago, I received word that a longtime friend had died in a car accident. I went online searching for information, and found a small article in his local paper. I made the mistake of clicking on the comments. Dozens of complete strangers were accusing him of drinking and driving, texting and driving, speeding, you name it. (The police stated in the article they believed he fell asleep at the wheel.) They had turned my friend into some sort of villain, judged him and were satisfied he had gotten what he deserved.

A man had died. He was a son, a brother, a dear friend to many. He died tragically and far too young. And all people could do was write hateful, hurtful things about someone they never knew. Why? People can really, really suck.

Funny how something this tragic event bumped up some peoples words& grandstanding. Even shilling their own crapassery. Similarly, it Knocked others down.
Imabe digging a little deeper for some take away; something to give us some semblance of hope.

And that is in part why I adore the bread, cheese and wine lover and writer Olivier Blanchard. Ever since I’ve followed and read your posts and thoughts, you have consistently kept it real and honest. That is so needed! I am so proud to see there are people in this world who get what the truth is vs. all the crap that people just happen to make up in their minds because of their OWN experiences. So so sorry for your loss. You are my hero today for setting the record straight and that IS the greatest honor you can give Trey.

Truly a great perspective. It is a strong reminder that we can live as connectors, or self-promotional navel gazers. Trey demonstrated a “Go-giver” mindset – the role of a connecter. I hope his approach leaves a positive legacy for other networkers.

Olivier: I agree with you about the opportunists. But I’m forgiving of those who used this as a way to open up about depression and/or their own experiences with depression. I’m one of these guilty people: Ive written a short post (on my own mental health website) about it, mostly because it was an extension of a comment I’d written to Steve Woodruff’s post about Trey (he knew Trey well, I don’t know Trey but I knew Steve well; I also have suffered from depression).

I can’t say what I felt is what others have felt. But even as I didn’t know Trey, his suicide deeply affected me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I found out. I have heard people say that depression is a cancer of the soul, and if that’s the case then I am in remission. When someone dies of the kind of cancer I had, I get scared that maybe one day I’ll have a relapse and then I won’t be safe either. I also think about how misunderstood depression is, how stigmatizing. From the comments of those ignorant people who talk about Trey’s countless followers and “oh, how could he when he was so popular”, I see these as reinforcing that stigma than tearing it down.

So I wrote about it, a couple of hundred words. I wrote it because I felt scared the way a person being stalked hears about someone dying from the same stalker. Maybe this was selfish, then I’m guilty of being selfish. Maybe this was a way I cope. But I understand why someone else need to write about it, because he’s scared of the same thing happening to him.

But to those others who write about this for the purpose of showing how well they have their own shit together or why Trey “shouldn’t” have — I flip these people the bird.

I wouldn’t be much of a friend to anyone if I just kept my mouth shut about stuff like this. Cheers, Dickie. Trey really thought the world of you. The avatar thing you’re doing would make him cry all over his keyboard, man.

Thank you so much Olivier.
I’m sat here in tears again. That was so nice to hear.🙂 I thought the world of him and…
Just for the record… it’s easy not to say these things…

I think the world of you, Olivier. You’re also a huge mentor to me and I’m a huge advocate of the brilliant work you’ve done and do with Social Media around ROI, your brand consulting, marketing expertise etc.

I was so blessed to have been at that first Like Minds conference when I met you and Trey. I’m so gutted we’ve lost Trey, but so pleased we’ve still got you.

A big thanks!! I was hoping to see this blog post today. You did not disappoint. I will do my part to spread this message so others. Keep spreading the truth brother. Next time you get to Atlanta stop by the agency I want to take you for a drink. Lunch will work too!

There are many unspoken rules here, but one is this: Don’t fuck with a friend.

I’m not alone. James Akers and Jay Handler have been doing amazing work behind the scenes in Greenville to make sure the record is set straight. I saw their work tonight, when for the first time since Trey’s death, a media outlet actually covered Trey’s passing with care and respect. Up until tonight, the coverage was a disgrace. I did nothing here but shoot my mouth. These guys deserve the real credit.

Trey knew how to pick his friends. I haven’t seen such rabid loyalty in a very long time. It kicks ass. Glad you’re one of us, Champagne Charlie.

Thanks Frenchie…but really all I did is open the gates and invite everyone in to celebrate Trey in their own way. It was an immense honor to be able to coordinate it and to see the tremendous outpouring of support from his friends and strangers alike over the past few days. Trey was a mentor to the experienced, an educator to the novice, a minister to the sick, a shepherd for the lost, a doctor for the pained and a true master of communication. He was all those things for me at one point or another, and I just wanted to find a way to honor his tremendous spirit in the only place large enough to contain it.

Great to reconnect with you again, Olivier. I’ve missed our talks. Thank you for setting things straight in a world I don’t feel comfortable in.

The last few days have left me rather baffled, confused, disheartened, and disgusted, to say the least. I say that as someone who really did not know Trey at all. I exchanged I think one brief message with him where he asked me to weigh in on a post of his about a year ago, and that’s about the extent of my personal knowledge of him. All I know of him is based on what many people I know said, and it was always, always good. I always thought, “I need to get to know that guy.” I didn’t get to.

For me, being that far distant from the tragedy of his death, the behavior of a lot of people online has made me want to leave the online world in my dust. I can’t really imagine how you feel, although this post does a pretty darned good job verbalizing it.

I think a few people out there who have written the kinds of posts you’re talking about may have thought they were really doing something helpful. I would offer them a pass. I think the online world twists our mind into pretzels to the point where it becomes easy to lie to ourselves about what our real motivations are.

I will not be writing a post this week or anytime soon about various struggles I’ve had in my life because it is not relevant. My struggles were not Trey’s. His were not mine. What worked for me may not work for 5 million other people. There is not a “best ways to defeat depression” e-book I’d want to write.

I have done my best to tread very carefully out of care and respect for you and the many other friends I have who are missing Trey terribly right now. I have tried to encourage people to leave a wide berth, and if you are questioning whether you should post it…don’t. These are public venues. His friends can read these words. His family can read these words. I mean, really.

I have been convinced that nothing is sacred in this online environment, and that’s really sad. That a person’s death can become just another “calling BS, you’re a douchebag” issue says more about our society than I really care to think about.

Your blog illustrates that there is a 3rd person illuminated and left behind by Trey’s passing. The grieving. The anger, the pain, the feeling that people don’t understand what you & many others are going through, that is what I see as I (someone on the very outskirts of Trey’s circle) read your blog for the first time.

People connect & react to death in many ways. Many people require different levels of understand the events preceding ones death, whether the death be accidental, natural, or premeditated. I’ve seen many people in anger over Trey’s passing condemn WYFF for posting a story about suicide on their website. I personally think that the story was unbiased, and newsworthy, as it was a public, not private event, and suicide is not something to be pushed in a corner. I felt that the church officials interviewed respected Trey’s privacy by not disclosing details of why he was not welcome at their place of worship, but it was a relevant fact.

Understanding is important. It is also important to recognize that many people best understand by relating, and communicating those thoughts is what people in social media do.

I knew of Trey through Twitter, a place where the motto is ‘join the conversation.’ The conversation surrounding Trey’s passing and the broader conversation of depression and suicide is a VERY important topic. Unfortunately Trey is no longer with us to tell us his part of the story. Please do not condemn the people who are sharing their stories of battling depression. It’s not that they are better than Trey, but that they found a way to survive that he didn’t. That is a very important lesson for those battling depression. For some it may be the first time they are able to share their stories. For others it is not, but that in no way cheapens their story, struggle, or victory. The lesson here is that each life is valuable, including those who are trying to educate others while Trey’s passing has shined a light on the topics of depression, suicide, and social media.

I agree Trey’s legacy should be respected, and insight into his story offered only when it is truly known. Only a part of his legacy is his suicide. But I ask you to please not condemn those who are coming to grips with Trey’s passing in a way different than your own. The path towards acceptance is as unique as we are. Questions should be asked. Theories should be voiced, and the ridiculous acknowledged as such. Similar experiences should be shared. Depression and suicide should be talked about. This is all a part of connecting, relating and understanding.

Right. I agree. I’m sorry my post wasn’t clearer on this issue. Several other readers have brought this up as well.

It all goes to intent: If Trey’s death triggers a need by someone to share a personal experience or bring up the subjects of suicide and depression, no problem. There isn’t one thing wrong with it.

My post addresses a different thing altogether. Several people’s posts use Trey’s death as an excuse to get attention. It’s kind of like when you tell someone about a horrible thing that happened to you, and they interrupt you to tell you about the even more horrible thing that happened to them, then give you advice on how to deal with your problem. They do it to be the center of attention. These are the blog posts I am talking about.

So please, please, please, if you genuinely have something to share, and especially if it will help people cope, share it.

I have nothing but compassion for him. As someone who has battled depression and been driven to the point of attempting suicide because of a nasty custody battle, I know what it’s like to be in his position.

I’ve been watching this play out over the blogosphere and twitter and was appalled that some folks have been using this tragedy to build traffic and business. I don’t recall the person or blog, but i even remember seeing someone that released an ebook about their depression by piggy-backing this event. Maybe they were trying to help but I felt it was in bad taste.

Nice work here…its sad that such great commentary had to come out of such a tragedy.

It’s Brian Tannebaum, you don’t have to be a coward, you can use my full name. Sorry my opinion doesn’t comport with your desire to suppress the reality that people need to understand social media personas are mostly false. I’m sorry for Trey’s family, and I hope that anyone who looks to social media experts and internet marketers as a place to waste their money realizes that everything is not as it appears. That notion is something that people in this social media business need to hide from. If people knew the truth, they wouldn’t hire any of them. Most of them are broke and have screwed up lives. They are selling a dream they have not lived, nor will ever live.

1. It’s easy to call someone a coward from the safety of your computer, hundreds of miles away. Let’s have that conversation face to face next time you’re in Greenville. I’m sure I can clarify that point for you in person.

2. Are many self-professed social media “experts” full of shit? Yes. But many of the people who work with social are top notch professionals with tremendous experience in their specific fields. Some are communications experts, others bring in decades of operational savvy, others make the technology work, and others still are just good at helping people in customer support roles. There is no one-size-fits-all profile. If you worked in this space like I do, you would know that. You would also know the charlatans from the real professionals. But you don’t. For all the yapping you do about people who work in and with social media, you don’t know shit.

3. One of my best friends just died. Social media had nothing to do with why he killed himself. Social media had nothing to do with who he was either. If you have a beef with social media “gurus,” fine. Have at it. Go tell the world about their bullshit. God knows I do. But don’t use my friend’s death as a platform. He wasn’t one of them. He didn’t rip people off. He understood the space well. More than anything, he was one of the few professionals in this field who truly emphasized the connective element of digital communications, the human side of things.

I can’t stop you from being an asshole, but please try to find within yourself an ounce of decency. We all just lost a dear friend here – not a social media guy but a human being. Let him rest in peace. Let us grieve in peace. Go find some other way to get the attention you crave.

You don’t know my friend and you have no business talking about him. Spend your time talking about people you know, or stop speaking in broad generalities about things you know nothing about. Olivier is right…there are plenty of people that fit your description of “social media experts” just as there are plenty of people who fit the description of “scum sucking attention seekers”. Guess which one I’d rather be…

Don’t bother commenting. I won’t be reading it and I couldn’t care less what you might have to say.

You wrote a post with the title: “Now Will Everyone Stop Believing The Hype Of Social Media Rock Stars?” in reference to the passing of a man that worked within the space.

The title suggests that it takes a death to make people realize all is not what it seems. Really?

Why not point to failed social media campaigns? Or offer metrics on influencers and their effect (or lack of) on purchasing decisions? Or how so many start-ups in the social media space fail, despite constant hype and promotion by the “social media rock stars” you loathe so much?

THAT would be a valid argument. Not some crass cash-in on the death of a father; friend; family member.

The irony, of course, is that there are probably just as many people practising law who are false, full of it and peddling crap to unsuspecting people needing serious advice. Funny how that’s the industry you’re in…

Don’t sweat it, JP. One of them gracefully looked up the definition of “marketer” after I asked him to explain to me what that was. (They seem so angry at “marketers,” and appear to think that Trey and myself were “marketers” that I kind of needed to know what it was they really wanted to talk about. Good thing wikipedia was there for him. All this to say that we’ve accomplished two things today:

1. We’ve established that although they hate “marketers” with a passion, they couldn’t, until today, actually explain what a “marketer” is or does. Strange since most people usually understand something about the thing they hate… which gives them a reason to hate it in the first place. Evidently, hating “marketers” must be some kind of fad or popular wiki among this group, with perhaps one person having a legitimate beef, and the rest just regurgitating the venom because it’s cool this week.

2. Having finally consulted wikipedia today, at least one of them may have for the first time learned what it is he and his handful of friends have been hating on all week. (Putting aside the sarcasm, the harassment, the intimidation and the venom obviously aimed at inflicting as much emotional pain as possible on Trey’s inner circle. Let’s pass on that for now.) The definition of “marketer,” as relayed to me by this individual, was this:

“Marketer: n. one who sells goods or services to a market. For social media marketing, see Wikipedia: (link)”

Well shit, I am guilty then. Guilty as charged. I sell goods and services. Hell, everyone I know is guilty. My accountant, my butcher, my mechanic, even the guy who cuts my grass. We’re all dirty little marketers, every last one of us. Steve Jobs, Arianna Huffington, the whole lot of us, all slimy scumbag marketers. The little kids setting up their lemonade stand on the corner in my neighborhood too. Oh the horror.

No need for me, at this point, to dive into this guy’s notion that attorneys, alone among all professions, don’t market their services. This guy and his handful of peers aren’t “marketers” at all. They don’t have websites that advertise their services. They don’t manage “professional” blogs or twitter accounts. They don’t post their awards and achievement badges, “blawger” or otherwise on their blogs. Hell, they probably don’t even pay to be listed in phone books and law directories. Of course not. That would make them “marketers”.

So we’re back to square one: None of this seems to have anything to do with their hatred for “marketers.” It’s something else. Something more purposeful and targeted and vicious. First it was aimed at Trey, now at me and evidently at pretty much anyone who lets them know that what they are doing is disgusting. I feel kind of sorry for them. Imagine wasting that much time on trying to feel important? relevant, even?

As for their more recent attempt to make it into an “anti-lawyer” thing, that has failed miserably too. Many of my attorney friends have already reached out to me to apologize for these weirdos on behalf of the entire profession (unnecessary since I have no beef against lawyers), and offered their services if the harassment continues. It’s clear that every profession has its share of assholes, and we seem to have stumbled unto a small, insignificant little batch of cyber-bullies looking for a platform. They could just as easily been accountants, CNC machine operators or fry cooks. What they do for a living has nothing to do with what they have tried to do here.

Olivier, I read this post and thought, “Well said!” Then I went back and re-read my comment on your Heartbroken post and realized you may have placed me on the “right” side. I sincerely hope not, but I can see where my feeble attempt to share my own experience could have been interpreted as a “know it all” offering psychobabble advice. That was not my intent and nor was it to gain attention. As someone who has been there, I was simply sharing. But if I crossed the line, please, accept my apology.

I 100% agree with all of this, except for this one statement (as @janechin did above)
“I didn’t know Trey Pennington, but here is my painful story of depression.”

I never had the pleasure to meet Trey in person, and knew him only through his tweets, a couple Twitter interactions, and his blog. Yet when I read about his passing and all of the emotional posts written by people like you, Kristi, Scott, etc, it just struck me to the core as I’ve been so close to pulling the trigger myself years ago. I never intended my post (on my weight loss blog no less, not my marketing blog) to be one that could be lumped with the “journalists” and bottom-feeders of people looking to drive traffic to my blog, yet with this, I am worried people I respect might have taken it the wrong way. The intent was to share my story with my readers in case any of them might be able to identify or seek help.

No matter how it was perceived, it doesn’t matter at this point- such a trivial thing to think about when others are now being faced with saying goodbye to a loved one, father, husband, and grandfather. I have nothing but deepest sympathies and upmost respect for his loyal friends like yourself, and his family.

Emily, it goes to intent. Many of you shared your own stories out of a sense of need, and that’s great. Others, however, basically started with that. Trey’s death was an excuse to get attention. Very different situation from yours.

I should have been clearer about the difference in my post. You have nothing to worry about.🙂

first off I’m sorry for your pain in the mourning of a loss of a dear friend, it comes through in your writings and that of your close colleagues. Few could truly refer to Trey more other than a companion than a friend – if at all that definition is understood these days. You had a bond with the gentleman and I sense your indignation in this post. Yes you have a point but take a moment out because that will pass, there will always be people of those different sides as you say. The internet is never a moronic filter on humanity.

I roll forward in time would like to then look back at this moment and see a legacy of tributes from the people he touched positively in whatever way, anecdotes, shared wisdom and inspiration that Trey brought to people’s lives. The further away from social media probably the better. What would the man himself admire as a testimony to his nature if he were considering his chatter now, would it be this?

This is so clearly and beautifully written, and it speaks to the larger issues in this media-driven, attention-hungry society of ours. This man’s story, like every individual’s story, deserves respect; it isn’t a wave to ride.

“You turned a man’s death into content” is as profound a line as I’ve ever read. Thank you for writing it.

Olivier – I am sorry for your loss. As a good friend of Trey’s it must be very hard reading some of what you have seen.

I have to admit I was one who wrote a post. I had started it Sunday and couldn’t finish nor decide if I should. I couldn’t get the entire situation out of my head. Today I finally finished it and hit publish.

Yes, my post included a mention that my dad did commit suicide when I was 16. However, it was less than 1-2 paragraphs and only to bring relevancy to my thoughts. I had read Kris Colvin’s post and it touched my heart. Her post combined with Trey’s death somewhat opened a door I thought I had shut with the death of my father. Even though I didn’t know Trey as a friend like you did, I still was inspired by him and was a fan of him and his work.

I wrote my post because myself & many of my readers were struggling w/the definition of friendship and impact of social media on keeping up with the avatar smiles many think they’re required to have day and night. I didn’t write a post for SEO, for readership. It is simply my personal blog where I write what I feel and what I believe my readers want to hear.

While I agree with you on 95% of what you state here. I don’t agree with you in that if someone has something to say that is real and happens to relate to Trey and social media that it should be taboo. There are many people who are struggling with depression yet hiding behind an avatar and happy tweets. There are many who are struggling with the decision of if they will commit suicide in the next week. Why is it a bad thing to want to help them? To encourage people to be real with one another, to come together, to minimze the pressure with a few real friendships or to see the signs when a friend is going thru the same thing.

I believe truly that Trey will leave behind a legacy with the people who his life touched before and after his death. It may be people who knew him well or not.

I can tell you from the heart that he as a person and his death has touched my life, touched my heart. I can’t get the image of his kids out of my mind. Being a woman who lost my dad at 16 my heart truly aches for them. I wrote about it. I don’t think that makes me a socio path and hopefully not one of the social media people you referenced on your “right.” If it does, then I don’t really know the right words to respond other than I never had any motivation than to bring glory to his name, his work and his legacy.

Olivier-
I have read a lot of these blog posts that you have mentioned, and I am glad you have called them out. Your previous posts have really touched me and let me see how close the two of you were, and what that friendship meant to you.
Thanks for letting me (and the world) see that. We have lost someone very special.

Sorry, I’m back again, only to say, does this not perpetuate the problem? People are going to read this post, see the names and quotes of the people you are writing about – people will search, get traffic to those sites, and if that’s what those folks were after, you’re helping them get it.

It seems like ignoring these folks would be the best path, while also highlighting the posts you feel are apropos and respectful. Just rolling that around in my head.

You both are probably right. I just figure some folks who may not believe these things really could have been said could search the quotes, and up comes those blog sites. As we see, one of the bloggers has amazingly jumped in here to get more of the attention he is after.

Olivier, I’m so sorry about your loss of a dear friend. I only knew Trey from brief exchanges on Twitter and Facebook, and he was always nice and complimentary to me. That’s all I have of him, but it was positive and the best way to remember him. Your post and Kris Colvin’s are all I need to read about him. I’m already late to the game and just heard tonight from a tweet I saw. So tragic and sad. I hope the happy memories you and him shared help you during this time. Take care. A

Hmm . . and how about the idea that people who have suffered clinical depression, have lost loved ones to suicide, have possibly come close themselves, were affected by Trey Pennington’s death and do think they have something to say? I was one, though it certainly wasn’t 2,000 words – and was not monetized in any way.

Shall I look at this blog and not see someone with a legitimate POV – and something to think about, but rather chalk you up as someone who turned his presumptions of moral superiority into content? Because, after all, there is no possible grey area – the line is absolute?

It goes to intent, Evelyn. Should people share their stories of grief and struggles if they want to? Absolutely. This is as good a time as any, and if Trey’s death brings that about, more power to them. But that isn’t what I am condemning, and I am sorry for not being clearer about it in the post. What I am condemning (if that is the proper word – perhaps ‘deploring’ is more appropriate) is the “sharing” of personal hardships that uses Trey’s death as an excuse to get attention. Very different thing.

Ever been in a conversation where you are telling someone about a horrible personal experience, and before you’re done they immediately start telling you about their sob story, and how it was worse than yours, then start giving you advice about how to cope? Not because they care about you but because they have to be the center of attention? That’s what I am talking about.

Olivier, my heart hurts for you right now and for the other close friends, children and family members left trying to make sense of Trey’s death; of his absence in all of your lives. I send my love and condolences to you and to them, in the hope that one day you will all find peace and comfort. xoxo

You definitely have a way of profound sharing even in a time of deep personal loss. I admire that. Unfortunately, I never had a chance to know this man, so I will refrain from trying to take any stance on his death outside of sadness for loss of life. But it’s so clear how much he meant to you and to others close to him. It’s always amazed me how tragic events can bring out so much of people’s true character. It also reminds me how much I loathe most media outlets, but this is not the place for that discussion.

I don’t know why I continue to be amazed and disgusted by so much of human behavior, but I guess I should worry if I ever reach a point I’m not. The comments I’ve seen over the last few days… like the ones you’ve shared here, simply reveal and/or reinforce how much perversity exists in human beings… no matter what the context, social media, online, offline, in the world in general. Simply, there are just a lot of people in the world that most of us would never want anything to do with… unfortunately, we now have the technology to find them in our face all the time and at the worst times. Thank you mon ami .. over here to your left…

I would say that I pray these are not real comments, but I read many of them at the time too. It is a shame that many people forget to be human when on the web. I would venture to say none of these people would say those things while face-to-face with Trey’s close friends or family yet they did not take the time to think that those same people may (and did) read those posts.

It was obvious and sickening which posts were written to further the author’s brand. However, I did see many amazingly heartfelt posts that I feel did bring attention and awareness to the seriousness of depression. I know the lives that my friend Jodi’s death has saved helps me with my grief. I hope Trey’s friends and family can take a little solace in that his death has likely saved others with the awareness.

There’s been an overwhelming outpouring of positive too, and that’s great. Earlier today, you could almost feel both sides pushing back against each other, especially in Greenville. It’s been very strange. I don’t know how so many people managed to lose that side of them that allowed them to feel compassion for other human beings, but it’s a little disconcerting to see how often a quality we take fro granted in one another is so painfully absent.

Last night I couldn’t even respond more – because I am grappling (not well) with all of this. You and I have never met, but we have a thread of Trey that connects us (amazing how that works, even after breath expires)

Seemingly unrelated, I am an adoptive mother and I have 3 adopted brothers and you would be shocked at what people say ‘without filters’ even over the last 39 years…the internet has knocked down filters or tact and in many case, just sensitivity to situations that they ‘presume’ to know or understand.

I used to try and ‘help’ people understand. Explain. Rationalize. But my momma said, ‘Carrie, it is not possible to educate the world about every scenario. Many will choose to never understand beyond their own perception and snap judgment’ – wise woman.

Your post crystallized that at a REAL vs virtual memorial service, folks would not be calling Trey selfish or questioning his divorce or his finances or anything else.

They would be whispering, with respect, about the man’s life. His legacy. His laugh. His accent. They would be hugging the family not throwing cold water on their exposed emotions. They would be respectful, not all-knowing and self-righteous….or they simply would not show up.

The point that I took away from your post was…please – if you can’t give the family and friends and the man’s memory a few days of respect, of reverence, or honor….then choose to not show up. There will be time later for speculation, for drawing parallels, even for helping others who are hurting too. But for now, let’s light the candle, have some silence, pray without ceasing and allow his family and friends the dignity of letting him rest in peace.

Beautiful post, sir. I know this cannot be easy so soon after. Thank you for allowing us to see the transparency of your grief.

Oliver, I don’t know you. I don’t know Trey. All I know is that my twitter feed ended up being smothered in blog posts and retweets for the last couple days related to Trey’s death. Your post just happened to be the latest, but will likely not be the last.

I don’t have much to add to the conversation except that – by and large – social media is a space that tends to focus on life. The technology is in its infancy and the people using it tend to be young(er). The messages that propagate online tend to lean from positive & upbeat to downright sappy. The images posted on Facebook aren’t of “typical” days – they’re of special events & meaningful positive associations that people want to share. “Social Media” paints the world in rosy-colored glasses; and Trey (through the course of his professional life and intertwined personal connections) was viewed through those lenses, and perhaps even amplified the intensity of their vision.

At the end of it all – we’re just people. Some days are better than others. Some days are unbearable. Those “ugly” posts you refer to could be just as easily written about any celebrity or person who is in the public light. And perhaps that’s how we – as people – all get by. We make light of things we can’t understand. We form opinions on things we know nothing about. We selfishly reinforce our own understanding of the world. Most of the posts that I’ve read tend to be written by people who claim to have known Trey but also realize that a social media connection – a facebook update or a tweet – does not make a friendship.

I had never heard his name before this week and it sounds like that is a shame. Don’t know how I missed him, big internet I guess… From those who knew him, he sounded like a great guy and the situation sucks. Nothing more to say about that and if I ever do, feel free to find me and punch me in the face.

As for the anger. I get it, people often suck. Thankfully there are those ones on the left. Trust me, life is better when you focus on them and leave then ones on the right to their own devices…

Got so tired of it that when I saw a tweet yesterday along the lines of “110,000 followers and nobody knew” I went after the guy, sent him to an article showing this was misinformation and got him to agree it was incorrect and to remove it. And he also got a buddy who had retweeted it already to remove his as well.

Take care, hopefully at some point we will get to meet IRL ping me if you’re ever in Toronto.

Wow! I was unaware of Trey Pennington…but I am acutely aware of you now! Your prose and message is so real…and powerful. Beautifully written, a beautiful tribute. Trey WAS (and his memory is) lucky to have people like you in his camp.
Thank you for sharing such a real observation.
Warmest regards…and commiserations

the online world is no different than the offline.. some people just don’t get the meaning of ‘being social’ and that’s sometimes hard to deal with but it’s good that you wrote it down once again so that maybe, just maybe, some will think about it.. keep up and take care!

I dont know Trey Pennington. I read about him now and got to know what happened. My deep condolences to his well wishers. May his soul rest in peace.

On the blog post:
Good detailed post. I have one thing to add, all those who wrote their own stories had a deep urge to spit out something struggling inside them and did that. We need not be reproachful of it.

Agreed. My post clearly failed to draw a line between people who shared out of selflessness (good) and those who shared out of a need to draw attention to themselves (not so good). I should have been clearer about the importance of intent.

the online world is no different than the offline.. unfortunately some people just don’t get the true meaning of ‘being social’ and sometimes it’s hard to deal with. thank you for writing your reflections down cause maybe, just maybe, some will think about it.. keep up & take care!

This is how I see it. When a tragedy happens, resulting in an untimely death or injury, people become frightened. My belief is that they become frightened because of the apparent randomness of the whole thing. “If it could happen to him/her, it could happen to me.”

So they look for reasons. They look for cause. And, in particular, those who see themselves as experts, making a living one way or another by pontificating, or guiding, or simply stimulating and entertaining can see their position as being threatened. If they couldn’t see this coming… If they could see this coming but couldn’t do anything about it… And so it goes on.

An event like this leaves us all acutely aware of our own frailty, and each of us, in our own way, reflects that frailty in the way we behave. The problem is not our frailty; that’s a given. The problem is that we hurt others when trying to defend against what ultimately cannot be defended against.

Maybe some people were cynically exploiting the situation for SEO or whatever. I suspect few. Most were simply exposing the pathology which led them to do what they were already doing every day. It’s just that an incident like this throws it into sharp relief.

It is sometimes said that the most useful phrase in human existence is, “Even this must pass”. Personally, I go with, “I don’t know”. This is not, as many seem to think, a counsel of despair, but of hope.

Thanks Olivier for your courage, empathy and intellect. Reading some of the quotes I haven’t read made me more angry again. The way you expressed what many think (and it does require audacity) are a gift. To those who say “yes, you’re right Olivier, but, you know, depression blahblah”: don’t play shrink please or pretend to understand what depression, etc. is. You’re assuming Trey had no friends that have or had mental problems. You’re also assuming that your view on mental issues is the right one. Well, you’re utterly, completely and incredibly wrong. And about “hiding behind the avatar”: that’s really simplification and lacking insight in how people “talk about” or “treat” their problems. And, anyway, leave Trey out of that debate. If you want to preach about depression or mental problems, become a psychiatrist or psychologist, get analyzed and then write a book on it. And look at yourself instead of “using” Trey. Again, thanks Olivier.

the online world is no different than the offline.. unfortunately some people don’t really understand the true meaning of ‘being social’ and that’s sometimes hard to deal with. thank you for writing your reflections down cause maybe, just maybe some will think about it.. keep up & take care!

Olivier, first, glad to see your posting back to your normal length. Sign of recovery, good for you. I have had the experience of the polarization of comments you illustrate so well. When I have expressed comments in the rather raw
manner that sometimes just happens, I found some almost making excuses for them on my behalf. “he needs to be protected”. I think most of your commenters have seen your raw emotion for what it is. I just hope those that NEEDED to hear the message read all the way thru the emotion to get it. Cheers, man, and thanks for the nice mention. We are waaaay overdue for lunch.

Sometimes, somebody has to step over the line to be heard. It helps being a free agent these days. It gives me the freedom to say what others would like to but can’t. Know what I mean? If it sometimes makes me come across as an indiscriminate hammer, so be it. It’s a small price to pay to shove the point across.

It is now been more than two years, I am stumbling here and there including ‘expert’s blog’, of course they always have been making use of every opportunity, either it is a new gadget, Google + or acquisition of any company. But it is tragic to see they’re making use of someone’s death, it reminds of of Pakistani politicians who are the same.

I learned about Trey’s death by SMS, and it is been weird since then. HUG!

Had just had a telephone conversation with a friend when I read this post. My friend isn’t big on social media, didn’t know Trey, but had heard what had happened. He, like me, was horrified at how the “ugly” people had turned Trey’s death to their advantage, and how they made something so tragic all about themselves. Selfish beyond belief. My friend is now more sceptical about social media than ever, and who can blame him. Trey would have hated this.

I had the real pleasure – and the honour – of spending two days and two evenings with Trey last year, and I’ll never forget the personal stories he shared over a glass of malt in the ‘wee sma’ oors’ and the connection we maintained until the weekend. I will truly miss him.

That Trey is no longer here, is devastating. That you had to write such a post, is shocking.
But thank you for articulating what those of us on the left were thinking.

I’m supposed to run and hide like most marketers do when they are criticised? Is it a foreign concept to engage in debate? Oh, wait, look who I’m asking. As for attention, I’m a lawyer, in Miami. Nothing I say here will get me clients. I know, its a shock that anyone actually writes to express an opinion and not to market. Get real pal.

No, understand perhaps it better to just walk away without judgement when someone passes like a kind human being. Have compassion for the those that are grieving. Not every blog post is grounds for debate, why can’t you see it as his need to express? Is it possible you weren’t trying to offend anyone…of course. However, owning up to the perceptions of others and making apologies or walking away is far better than casting stones into an already tragic situation. Stop defending yourself, nobody cares dude! Oh, and by the way, I am not up for debate either….just try and take a look if you have any responsibility in others perception of you.

Brian, I hope that when someone dear to you dies, strangers don’t show up out of the blue to interrupt your grieving to assault you with their bullshit theories about how your friend or family member was a prime example of everything that is wrong with their chosen profession.

You kind of remind me of the Westboro assholes who picket military funerals with “God hates fags” signs. No respect for the dead, no respect for the grieving, just a desperate self-righteous need to get their point across no matter how hateful and hurtful it is to others. You made your point, Brian. You’ve been heard. There’s no debate here. There’s only you holding up a sign nobody really gives a shit about.

Simply put, there is a time and a place for everything, Brian. The deliberate timing of your “debate” overshoots ‘inappropriate’ by miles. I am sure that you can do more good helping clients than hanging out around here trying to justify yourself. Why do you care what I think? Don’t answer that. It’s a rhetorical question.

Wow Oliver, now I’m compared to someone who has a problem with gay people? Damn, I initially thought you were just a marking idiot, I never thought you were just a total complete disgraceful piece of shit. Sorry I was confused..

I would just say that these exchanges between you and Olivier might be better served to move off this thread at this point. Regardless of your opinions about each other or about this particular situation, there are people here who are related to this man or who counted him as a good friend, and I don’t think watching you bash each other is really what anyone needs.

I did not know Trey and it’s not what I need, certainly. You are both making yourselves look bad at this point.

Hello Brian. I’m a marketer so I suppose that makes me an asshole and a runner (I wish I was, then I would be less fat). I also am a law graduate. Not in the US. In Belgium. Know where that is? I know how many lawyers think. Hey, did you see that? I wrote “many” lawyers, not just lawyers. It must be though to see the world in good and bad, right and wrong, black and white for many lawyers but in a way I guess it also feels safer to pass judgment rather than explore the grey zones. I know how it is. You? Absit inuiria verbis. A law person turned marketing asshole.

Olivier, you are bravely saying publically what a lot of people have probably been thinking privately. To profit, or attempt to profit, from the loss of others is certainly nothing short of evil. If I were to offer a well-intended and gentle thought to one tiny point in this post it would be this: we shouldn’t lump people who wrote about their own struggle with depression as the same as those attempting to profit from it. If there’s good to be gained, perhaps its in an open and frank discussion where people don’t feel ashamed of their affliction. A dark and solitary place is poor ground for wrestling with devils. Soft talk for an old grunt, but as time heals, it also smooths rough surfaces.

You’re absolutely right, Frank, and you aren’t the first person to bring this up. I’m sorry my post wasn’t clearer on this point. It all goes to intent. People who share their stories out of genuine grief and/or a desire to be a comfort to others are 100% in the “good” category, in my book. I was referring to the self-serving, attention-grabbing posts I read earlier this week whose intent was clearly not to help anyone but to steal the spotlight from a dead man.

Quietly, I raise a hand from the left. That was possibly one of the saddest posts I’ve read since last Sunday. Not just because of the passing of a truly wonderful, warm man but because of the harsh reality of human nature we’ve had to witness this week.

Wondering if the 24-hour news cycle, if the deliberate distance we put between ourselves and the casualties of war death these days, doesn’t contribute to a collective erosion of human perspective and compassion. Everything falls into the realm of opinion now, of abstract arguments about right and wrong and political religions, of statistics and sanitized terminology like “collateral damage” and “surgical strikes.” Somehow, the human element, the element of flesh and blood, the details of people’s lives and the space they filled gets lost in the shuffle. Hell, it gets deliberately erased. It doesn’t come from a bad place. We just try to make ourselves feel better about tragedy and the horrors of war, we try to keep guilt at bay because it can so easily become an obstacle between us and the task at hand, but after almost 10 years of war in Iraq, Afghanistan and other parts of the world, the effect it might have had on us all might be a collective detachment from human suffering. Trey’s death is just another news story to be dissected into oblivion before the next big story breaks.

I don’t know. I don’t know if I can even blame any of these people for being so insensitive or downright hateful anymore. Maybe we all share a part of responsibility in this phenomenon.

Wow – one heck of a lesson. Brilliantly written, as ever. And so true in so many cases.

It is natural for so may to simply agree – though out of fairness, I will say in defense of some of the many related pieces I have read – for many, blogging is impulsive, instinctive, not commercial – and as a consequence of this, the sad passing of someone with the stature of Trey, opens up wounds and stories, and encourages natural sharing, and `response` – whether it be a tribute, or as a confessional. As was quoted to me this week by a friend who did know Trey, “if part of his legacy was to make us think, really think” – then he would be pleased.

We recognise the hitchhikers a mile off – the distant folks with commercial blogs who wrote within hours, whilst the iron was really, really hot – but also there have been some people who have been touched and made to think about stuff – regardless of their relationship with Trey.
It maybe sad that they quote Trey’s death, but it also may be genuinely indicative of the high regard for which the man is held.

This had to be said though Olivier – and well done for doing so. It has struck a chord, and has made me re-write and defer a piece that quotes Trey and others, and I would never have wanted to be perceived in this way.

But in all fairness, I screwed up when I wrote this post. It makes it sound like I condemn anyone who wants to share personal stories about depression and suicide and grief. That isn’t the case. I was referring to self-serving, attention-grabbing blog posts that merely use Trey’s death as an excuse to grab a little bit of spotlight. Many people have shared their experiences out of genuine grief or a desire to help others cope, and that, I have nothing against. Quite the contrary. It all comes down to intent. If you have stories to share, by all means share them.

Hey no worries Olivier – the smart people will see the reasoning and be compassionate to your comments. Yes maybe it unfairly brands some blogs, but the point is a good one, and should make people think twice before piggy-backing for commercial gain.

Very sorry for your loss. I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared for anything like this. We all come from different religious beliefs, friendship values, ways we interact with others.
How someone reacts or deals with anything is just a human being having a human experience.
I liked Trey a lot and this just sucks. I am sad and angry.
I pray for his family and friends that they will find relief.
xo

Awesome post, Olivier. I was telling somebody over the phone the other day about how sickening it was to see Trey’s name used as a keyword in blog posts for opportunity in PageRank. I’m sure you saw the post from the ex-Mashable writer call Pete and Co. out, but in the same breath bring attention to himself for Forbes.

Disgusting. My condolences to your loss of a close friend and trusted business partner. I hope time will heal all your wounds.

Awesome post, Olivier. I was telling somebody over the phone the other day about how sickening it was to see Trey’s name used as a keyword in blog posts for opportunity in PageRank. I’m sure you saw the post from the ex-Mashable writer call Pete and Co. out, but in the same breath bring attention to himself for Forbes.

Disgusting.

My condolences to your loss of a close friend and trusted business partner. I hope time will heal all your wounds.

I had not heard from the “asshole” crowd until today. I saw someone post something just sickening, and it broke my heart all over again. How uncaring. Maybe others were saying it, but I guess I don’t run in those circles.

Most everyone I have encountered has been floored, and genuinely sad for the family foremost, but also for the loss of a good man and that they were unable to help him.

My point was a simple one – depression is a serious disease, and never assume what you see online or even offline about someone is the whole story.

As far as “cashing in,” I was blogging well before the marketers arrived and decided blogging was a a money making venture. Now we have marketers who cannot accept that anyone blogs for any other reason but to make money. I can’t change their minds, there’s too much selling to be done for marketers to agree that some people blog just to write.

I’m late for the party so to speak. I am at a loss for words, which is very unussual for me. The dream and reality of getting together with Trey & Olivier, which we talked about some 3 years ago had yet to happen and never will, I’m seriously sad on so many levels.

I hope all who knew him in person can truly celebrate his life without tainting it by how his life was ended.

Olivier ~ I’m not sure, but after reading your post I may be one of those people to the right you speak of. I did not write a blog or a post but did comment on several blogs (yours included). My input was to share my personal experiences with suicide and depression. I’m sorry if my input offended those such as yourself that had such a deep personal connection with Mr. Pennington. My intention was not for personal monetary gain, but may have been for personal spiritual gain; still a selfish motive. Respectfully, John

Thanks John. It all goes to intent. If your intentions were not “selfish,” then you’re fine. Don’t sweat it. I wasn’t very clear in my post about the difference between people sharing their stories out of grief and selflessness, and people sharing their stories just to get attention. Clearly, you don’t fall into the latter category. Share away. The more people your stories touch, the better.

Olivier, I found you through Trey as you know. He always spoke so highly of you to me, I am still grieving his loss and wanted to let you know. I honor your passion for shining the light on integrity today, this virtue is among your greatest strengths my friend. We have never spoken much or got to know each other very well over the past few years, and for that I am sorry. I just wanted you to have my deepest sympathy in your time of grief. I have no words to even express myself about this, suffice to say… I miss him Olivier, we planned on meeting face to face so many times and that will never happen now. My tears will never bring him back, God…this hurts.

Thanks, Alex. He left us a lot of blog posts and videos and memories. I can’t watch or read any of his stuff yet – too soon – but I am glad that he left so much of himself behind for us to revisit from time to time. Cheers, man.

Olivier, love your stuff as always, and was very sorry to hear. Since I didn’t know Trey, I shared your story instead of trying to make my own, which I felt was the most respectful thing. As for those who ran afoul of not only a journalistic rule but also a moral one, I’m extremely disappointed and hope that others are as well. Take it easy my friend! ~Russ (Socialmediabrat.com)

Typical of little asshole trolls to hide behind layers of anonymity. And yeah, that’s right, I did all this for the attention and the web traffic. You’re just so clever. They should give clever medals to people like you.

I didn’t know Trey Pennington, and I’m not sure how (except that apparently my research sucks) but somehow I didn’t know of him as the marketing genius I’ve now quickly learned he was. But I do know the feelings you’ve expressed in this post, and I know the courage and passion it takes to share those feelings, and the risk it imposes. Thank you for sharing–yes, I’m sure you’ve turned off some people, but you know so much more than I do that by sharing this you’ve strengthened the relationships (both personal and not) with the people reading this who agree and care. Again, really, thank you so much for writing and sharing this.

Powerful words, Olivier. I must say, after reading your post it becomes quite simple for us to identify those individuals who really knew the man, and who just jumped on the situation to their own benefit.

It’s clear that you were one of the lucky few who had a real connection to Trey, and his passing must be hard to bear. My deepest sympathies to you for the loss of your friend.

[…] Ugly. Published: September 7, 2011 Source: The BrandBuilder Blog I learned something in the last few days. I learned that there are two kinds of people in the so-called “social media space.” To my left, say hello to the kind, caring, compassionate, I would say normal hu… […]

Well, considering I just wasted time reading this overly dramatic post & comments, I thought to add my own sentence or three.

Trey was unhappy, his life lost all it’s meaning, he wanted to die. He killed himself. He became a death celebrity for a minute, his friends and foes fed off of his self-killing, where they paraded around trying to look important. They embraced each other with virtual wakes, spread across pages, and really should have just kept their mouths shut.

I did not and never will know Trey. He’s dead and gone. I don’t know his family. I don’t know his friends. I do feel compassion; as a human being. Don’t need to be special to do that.

As for Bryan; well only your loved ones will cry when you kick the bucket, and that’s the way it is supposed to be. You are however a callous asshole in my and other peoples opinions. Who cares that you blogged before it was “cool” etc. You’re a nob

Gradon and I talked about Trey after we saw the news — both of us had only interacted with him online, but he had made me laugh or think more than once. Gradon had some challenges early in life that resulted in challenges for him later on, so Trey’s story resonated with him a little differently than with me, though we were both so sad for his family and friends, and for the loss of someone who was obviously so special.

Gradon felt compelled to write a post thanking some of the people he appreciates most in the world, because he was struck by how quickly we can lose the people we love, and how important it was that they always know that we love them. He made a point of not mentioning Trey’s name or the details of his passing, because he didn’t want to jump on the bandwagon. In his words from the post, any opportunism in the face of tragedy is “sleazy.”

I’m not shocked that people can be assholes. I’m shocked that they try and pretend otherwise.

When we go out hiking as a family, I remind my young daughter (and myself) that as exciting as it is to go out into the wild, you must save some energy to get back.

Perhaps, as we push ourselves further into the vastness of the technologentsia, we, too, should be reminded to leave an emotional breadcrumb trail so we can retain our humanness before we lose it for good.

Thanks for sharing some of your thoughts and feeling surrounding Trey’s passage, Olivier. My condolences for the loss of your friend and comrade.

I just laid my brother to rest a few hours ago, as did other family and friends. I have seen the comments this week that Olivier speaks of, and I had planned to somehow address them after I regained my footing. Thanks to you, Olivier, it’s already been done. If anyone who had so recklessly, inappropriately and selfishly espoused their uninformed and self-serving opinions this week had been at that Memorial today, they would have seen a man honored for so many things they can’t even fathom. Their lives are that small. That reveals yet one more tragedy this week. Sweet dreams, small ones.

Oliver, I also wrote a piece related to Trey sharing my story of depression coming all so close to suicide if not for “break down the door”intervention of people close to me. There is a bond between people who suffer from depression(at least as I experience it). This bond derives from the common knowledge that many do not “get’ the disease. They just want you to “get”over it. That bond includes Trey even if I have never met hm. I did not single Trey out. I have written about depression several times. I have no affiliate links. I don’t sell anything or allow others to sell anything. I simply empathize. That empathy generates feelings. I write about that feelings. It’s not about capitalizing, its about empathy and the hope that others find the help they need to go a different route.

Brian, I wasn’t as clear as I could have been in the post. A few people have brought up a similar point in the comments. It all boils down to intent: If you shared something personal out of a genuine need to share something or help people cope, there is nothing wrong with that. My post addresses a different kind of motivation, one that is patently self-serving and aimed at exploiting Trey’s death to get attention. If your conscience is clear, this blog post isn’t about you at all.

I am happy to hear such Olivier. I wrote a post for some of the same reasons. I felt horrible after reading this post and truly wasn’t trying to exploit anything. I removed Trey’s name from the title of the post.

Truly sorry for your loss Olivier. You were blessed to know him well. Hopefully the trolls will go away soon.

Olivier – I’m truly sorry for your pain and loss. The coverage about Trey wasn’t sitting right with me and you put it into words. I wish I had something better to say, but I just want you to know I appreciate how eloquently you wrote this. Thanks.

Olivier, Thank you for sharing with such heart felt emotion what you did.

As someone who has struggled with depression intermittently, a heck of an lot of personal life challenges and lost someone close to me due to suicide, it’s made me feel ill to read some of the opportunistic blog posts and troll comments.

I appreciate this post because I agree with it, and because I needed a place to express my condolences and to express my appreciation for his kindness. I cannot imagine the grief surrounding the realities of Trey Pennington’s passing. But my thoughts and prayers are with his family and his friends. While I only connected to him via Twitter, he took the time to send me a personal message twice: when my granddaughter was born two years ago, and again when my son deployed last year. That has always stayed with me … I was touched that he took the time to make a personal connection. People like that are few and far between. My condolences to you, Olivier.

Great and insightful as usual Olivier. Sadly this last week we have seen a side to social media which is not to be proud of. Some are so busy trying to lay claim in Google rankings, they don’t think about the harm or callousness of their actions. Some don’t care. I have been fortunate enough to meet and know some really awesome people online, but I have also met the other side who will say and do anything for a quick buck or to get attention. It is not pretty. As you say, much of what was said or written about this past week revealed the true character of all of us, good or bad. I have a feeling there will be lingering repercussions for the bad ones that they may not have thought about.

Pam Moore: in all honesty I don’t think it’s bad to use the name of Trey in a respectful post, really. People are looking up his name. In my opinion, and I may be utterly wrong but it’s my opinion, I prefer to see posts that honor Trey when searching his name then all the interpretations and crap I have read. I did exactly the opposite from you for exactly that reason. First, I just put his first name, then I saw what happened and added his last name as well. I react because right now I’m working with my marketing automation solution and the inbound module shows my blog has received lots of traffic with the word “Trey Pennington”. Should I feel guilty? Here’s the thing: I stand behind my vision in all confidence. And you know why? Because I paid him respect (as did many others), I don’t make money with my blog and I have absolutely no customers or prospects in the US nor who knew Trey. Hell, I even think I’m going to optimize my post even further so some posts that really make me sad, hopefully move to page 239 of Google.

I’ve read this, painfully, several times before I found the courage to comment. Because I’m not ‘that guy’ … and don’t want this to be ‘my’ story. It’s not. But it is. Everyone who has ever been touched by suicide ~ it is their story, too.

Someone I loved very very much committed suicide. All of us who loved him saw it coming and did what we could to hold it at bay. Like any disease, sometimes it wins.

Thank you for your outrage, Olivier, at the misconceptions of mental illness and at those who would steep so low to use any tragedy to their advantage.

We need to remove the stigma and understand that depression is an illness. To understand that you don’t ‘just get over it’. Ever met anyone with cervical cancer and told them to ‘cheer up and get over it’? Ever met a parent whose child had leukemia and said to them ‘I’m sure it’s just a phase they’re going through’… You? Probably not. But many, when commenting on depression, think this way. I know because I hear it.

One of my children is struggling with depression. We treat it like we would any ‘regular’ illness; no shame, no stigma. Treatment, compassion, understanding, and the best care available.

I was introduced to this post through Margie’s “best of 2011” round-up. I didn’t see it originally because in the aftermath of the death I had to shut down. There was too much crap flying around. I just couldn’t deal with it and I needed to grieve in a quiet way. But I’m glad I eventually saw this post. Thanks for writing it Olivier.